The Scars of Abel
by crusades
Summary: She saw him first miles and miles away from his own home-and she never forgot him. When she unknowingly stepped into his territory, her life changed drastically. Because the man she saw was Bruce Wayne-but that was not his only identity. (This takes place over all three of the movies; from BB to TDKR.) M for language and possible sexual content. I don't own Batman or the films.
1. The Change

**AN:**

**This is one of the first Batman fanfictions that I am posting to this website. It takes place over the span of all three movies, years and years; therefore, do expect it to end up being fairly long. This is chapter one. Just a few notes:  
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**1. Monica is not Asian; I' expect that to be obvious, seeing that both of her parents nationalities are explained, but I want to make sure that is known, just in case.  
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**2. Bruce in Monica will have no romance; seeing that this takes place in the movies, everything will go as they did then.  
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**Thank you for reading and please leave reviews.  
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**(This is a rough draft, also.)  
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**crusades.  
**

I first saw him being beaten, or rather beating, criminals that attacked him in an Asian prison.

My father was imprisoned there and I was to make my monthly visit. But, after visiting my father and heading back to the town, I saw him.

He was white, and American maybe, or European. A beard growing, scraggly, with dirt brown hair. I couldn't tell whether that was actually his hair color, or if the eternal mud that they lived in had stained him for life.

I stood in the background, separated from the prisoners, right in the threshold between what life can be and what life is. What my father's life was and my own.

There were so many of them, though. Too many, I knew he would be killed. They were all so much bigger than him and stronger looking, compared to the relatively lean man they were fighting against. He didn't stand a chance.

But held them off, he really did, and one by one they went down. I stood flabbergasted at what I had seen. Had he really destroyed all of these seasoned criminals, one man against six? Maybe my eyes were deceiving me, I thought. Suddenly I realized how far away I was actually standing, but I saw them so clear. A chill ran down my spine as I felt a push on the back of my shoulder.

"Move along," a guard with a gun told me in the native tongue and I nodded, moving up the road and farther and farther away from the prison. The man gripped my mind, even from far away. What a strange thing, I thought. What a very strange thing.

Before the accident, my mother was an acclaimed archaeologist. She travelled everywhere, knew everything; therefore, in her small town of Como, Italy everyone knew her name.

Her favorite place to travel was the Middle East and Asia, and that, of course, is where she met my father.

The disowned Arabian Prince was doing some travelling of his own when he met my mother in the summer heat in a dig in Israel. It was only by chance that they met, really, seeing that she was suppose to be gone the day before, but had convinced her men to stay another day. Another day turned into two days then three and finally she convinced my father to come back to Italy with her. They had to smuggle him in, but once he was there there was no turning back.

Fast-forward a year and they were pregnant. Father had convinced her to move into the mountains of Bhutan, where my sister Lalun was born.

Ten months later they were pregnant again, but this time with was me.

But as I said before, that was all before the accident.

We'd been in Europe most of the summer of my fourteenth birthday. It was in Paris where it happened.

Father had stayed back in Bhutan, he said he couldn't risk losing his job for a vacation, so mother, Lalun and I, on our own. Mother was happy, so very happy. She could tell us about every building and every crack in the sidewalk. I could see the stars shining in her eyes. She never told us that she missed her work, but we knew.

Mother was so excited about what she was teaching us that she did not pay attention to the fact that she was walking right into the street. By the time we noticed, it was too late, the bus had already come and she was lying on the ground, unable to move. It all happened so fast.

I was only fourteen years old and it looked as if my mother's life was about to end.

She would be paralyzed for the rest of her life, the French doctors told us. She was never walk again, never run, never dance. When mother slept Lalun took me to the side and whispered into my ear.

"How is she going to climb up a mountain? How is she going to get home?"

We had no way of contacting father, so we had to figure out everything on our own. Our flight was set to go out in three weeks, and the doctors said that that should be enough time. They gave us a wheelchair.

Finally we were able to contact father, and we thought we were saved. But he never looked at us the same again. He considered it another burden, as if it was another mouth to feed. The stars in mothers eyes went out and never came back again. Though she was still the fun person I knew before the accident, there was that element of her that had died.

"This is getting ridiculous," I said as I entered our home. It's a series squares running up the mountain side.

My sister stood over the fire in the middle of the "kitchen", which really was no kitchen at all, but a fire pit and salted meats hanging from the ceiling and fruits and vegetables we were trying to keep cold, on ice away from the fire.

"What?" she asked, cutting an apple in half and handing it to me.

I shrugged and bit into the fruit. "All of this," I said. "Running out to father every month to visit him in that shithole. Seeing him like that. And then," I glanced over to make sure mother wasn't in the other room, "having to take care of her in this place." I motioned to all around us. "She needs better living conditions, Lun. All she does is sit in the house all day."

"Speaking of that," my sister said, "did you bring what she asked for?"

I nodded and pulled she small book from the pocket of my massive jacket. "I hope she enjoys it."

"I'm sure she will."

We sat down against the wall in silence for a moment, before I spoke again. "I saw someone today. American, I think. He was in the prison. He was... I don't know. They attacked him, six of them, and he fought them all off."

Lalun said, surprised. "All of them? By timeself?"

I chuckled. "All by himself. He was practically super-human."

"Ah, our very own Superman." We laughed and I rested my head on my sister's shoulder.

"We have to get out of here," I decided.

"And leave father?" she asked.

"He put himself there. He's never getting out. You know that."

Lalun licked her lips. "Maybe mother would be happy again. To... get away. From this place. From the cold. We can go back to Italy, find her family. Maybe she could work again."

"No," I shook my head. "Not Italy."

"Where then?" she asked.

I grinned and threw the rest of my apple into the fire. "America."

**GOTHAM **

The buildings seemed to keep growing and growing until there was nothing left but metal and glass. They got taller and taller until the gods could reach down and put their hands upon them. Everything was different. But this was now home.

"Welcome to Gotham," my sister mumbled, looking for her keys in her jacket.

"Left pocket," I said, looking around in awe at everything in front of me.

Our apartment was near the bridge; I could see it from where I stood outside. It had taken a while, but Lalun and I were able to get student visas to get us into the country.

Mother was too sick to make the trip. I looked down at my hands as my sister opened the door.

She had gotten a fever some time before we were supposed to leave. We were sure everything would be fine, but one morning she just didn't open her eyes.

My visit to father was two days later when I brought him the news both of mothers death and out departure.

"I don't understand," he said, confused. "Why are you leaving?"

"We want a better life than this," I told him. "We'll go to America and go to school... get goods job and have a life. We were never meant for his." I added: "Mother wasn't meant for this."

His anger finally boiled over. "Don't you dare speak of what your mother was made for, Monica! You have no idea what we went through those first few years, raising you and your sister in the mountains of a country we didn't know." He spit. "You have no idea."

Father may have been right, I may have no idea. But what I did have an idea about was the fact that he was now a criminal and would die a criminal. What little money we had we got came from his crimes.

"Ah, right." Lalun pulled out her keys and opened the door to our flat apartment. It had a kitchen, a real kitchen, a bathroom and one bedroom we would share, plus a small living room which looked out to the city. Everything was brick. There was a small blow up mattress that the landlord said he was leave for us and a coach. Besides that we had nothing at all but the clothes we carried with us and all of mothers books.

"How the hell are we going to pay for school?" Lalun had asked before, when I told her of my plan.

"We won't have to," I said. "All we have to do is get into America, that's it. After that, the wind will take care of us.

I dropped my things in the middle of the bedroom and turned to find my sister with her hands on her hips.

"We have six hundred American dollars to our name. What do you think that can get us?"

"A shitty investment," I said, moving past her into the kitchen to wash off my hands.

She followed me. "We're going to have to work to pay for this place, you know? Both of us. This isn't some fun adventure."

Ah, but it is, I thought. "Alright, but first, we have to check the place, out right?" I said.

My sister thought for a moment and nodded. "Yes, you're right."

"So," I said, heading for the door. "Let's go."

There is something dark in Gotham, something bloody and something quick. I shoved my hands into the pockets of my jeans as my sister and I walked down the street. People surrounded us, but no one paid much attention to us. But all the same, I felt a darkness come over the city the way a mother looks over her newborn child.

We passed two police officers walking down the street a little while later. One of them turned back as they passed us. Lalun grabbed my arm and pulled me hard to keep on walking.

"Creeps," she groaned.

"I'm sure they think the same thing about you," I told her, as we kept on walking and the sun decided it was time to set.


	2. The Zodiac

**OKAY, THIS CHAPTER IS KIND OF A FILLER!**

**Yeah, I know that you probably want to get to some more action, but I'm trying to stick as tightly as I can to the movies; therefore, we have to go by their timeline. And I must admit, a certain Chris Nolan did not make this very easy...**

**But that's alright, I'm doing my best. The next chapter should be a little longer with a little more Baty action, maybe. ;o)**

**ALSO: Alfred made an appearance in this chapter! **

**Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN BRUCE WAYNE OR GOTHAM OR BATMAN. Though I wish I did because honestly.  
**

**crusades**

CHAPTER TWO: THE ZODIAC

"So, you sing?" the man across the table asked, sipping his J&B and playing with his many rings. In the dark light of the night-club, I could not see the color of his eyes clearly. They must be dark, I decided.

"I wouldn't be here if I couldn't sing," I picked up the beer bottle and sucked up the last of the liquid.

The man, called Miles, smiled, showing a golden tooth on his right side. I wondered who he had pissed off to get that one. "You're very pretty, Monica. And you said you got to Gotham only a little while ago?"

I nodded. "three weeks. My sister and I."

A janitor passed our small table with a mop and bumped into Miles, who shot expletives at him. "Idiot," he said. He turned back to me. "And where did you move from?"

"A small town in the mountains of Asia. You wouldn't know if I told you."

Miles chuckled. "Fine, we'll play your game. You're hired, Monica, starting tomorrow night. You'll need to be here by three for sound check and we have a list of songs you'll be singing. I think you'll like the work. The people," he pulled out a cigarette and lit it, taking a drag. "Maybe me, even."

My face tensed. "Maybe," I said. "Maybe." But I seriously doubt it, I thought. My sister and I had not had the conversation yet, the one talking about how things might go if we were to really find someone that we loved in this city-we didn't much have to.

I was uninterested in anything that didn't have to do with my singing and my future-and fun, for what it was worth; Lalun was uninterested in anything that didn't make her money to pay the bills. My dear sister was still without work and I had just been hired.

Standing up and shaking hands, Miles showed me to the door. As I stepped outside the framer, he grabbed my arm, pulling me back. My muscles tensed. "I'll see you tomorrow, Monica. Three O'clock," his voice was friendly enough, but there was something demonistic in the back of his eyes that made me pull my arm away and smile, wryly.

"Yeah," I nodded, shoving my hands into my jean pockets. "I'll see you tomorrow." As I turned away I felt the first drop of rain. Dammit, I thought. I was wearing nothing but a back V-neck and jeans and our apartment was almost six blocks away from my new workplace. I prayed that Miles wasn't still watching and wouldn't try to take me home-I wanted to be alone now, with my thoughts. Even in the rain.

Keeping my head down, I headed in the direction of our small apartment. In the threes week that we had been here, it had not exactly become more "homie". We bought sheets for our one and found some chairs that someone was throwing out and brought them back. Lalun said it made her feel disgusting, taking someone else's trash. I reminded her that we had no money for anything else.

As I considered this as I walked, I remembered suddenly that my sister had requested that I stop at the market and buy milk and eggs. How desperately typical of me to forget, I reprimanded myself. Thankfully, the market was only a block away, and by the time I got there, the rain had stopped.

I got glances from people who had umbrellas and hoods but ignored them. I was soaking wet as I entered the store and a wave of shock hit my body. Never having been in a store such as this, there was just so much. Did people eat this much in the city? I found myself wondering. Back when I was a child, we were lucky to have hard bread and goat cheese.

Trying to follow the signs, I found the milk in the cold aisle section. But there was so much of this too. These were unexpected feelings inside of me, the careless one; right now I had to deal with something that my sister was far better at.

I must have been staring terribly hard at the different types of milk, because an older man came up next to me and smiled. "Having a hard time, dear?" he said, a soothingly familiar British accent that took me back to my travels of Europe with my mother and sister.

"Yes," I nodded. "I... I don't-I mean, I've never seen so many-"

The man just chuckled. "It's okay, Miss. Now, what type of milk are you use to drinking?"

Pausing to think for a moment, I said the first thing that came to my mind. "The kind... from a... cow or a..goat."

This made the man hoot with laughter. He shook his head and opened the glass door, pulling out the small half-gallon that said Vitamin D. He handed it to me. "I think you'll find this appealing, Miss."

Holding the cold plastic in my hand, I found myself saved-I was utterly thankful. "Thank you, sir. This.. well, thank you so much. I'm Monica." I held out my other hand; he took it.

"Alfred," he said. Then he asked: "You're accent is very particular; you're not from around Gotham, are you dear?"

I shook my head. "My sister and I... we moved here only three weeks ago."

"Well," he said, not trying to get anymore out of me. "It's nice to meet you, Monica, and I hope you enjoy your milk."

Grinning, I said: "I will, thank you Alfred."

"Took you long enough," were the first words that came from my sisters mouth when I came through the door. She glanced at the back in my hand as I made my way to the refrigerator, which had been our landlords, but he allowed us to have it. We now had a blow up bed, a couch, a refrigerator and a microwave.

As I opened it and put the milk inside, my sister made a stance behind me. "Where are the eggs?"

I could have swore that the sound of true pure hell ripped through my mind at that very point. "Dammit, Lalun!" I turned to face her quickly. "I am trying so hard! I got a job today; what have you done? Laid on your ass! You say you want to do everything you can to get us money, but you have been on one interview all week!" I made a sarcastic laugh and didn't wait for her reply, moving to our own room to change out of my wet clothes.

"I don't know what your issue is, all I asked you to do was get milk and eggs! Why is that so hard for you?" she shot back.

Glaring at her, I was almost speechless that things had come to this. We fought all the time at home; we had different morals, different values, but we hadn't fought like this, with venom in every word. "You're so stupid sometimes, Lalun," I said to her. "You're so fucking dense. If you want to eggs so bad, then go out there get and get them yourself."

With that she stormed out of the room. I slipped on a large white t-shirt and sweatpants. Still reeling, I went straight for the milk and drank from the bottle. The cool liquid felt good going down my throat.

That was one of the only good things about it. It tasted dreadfully different than what I was use to and I couldn't take anymore. A voice inside my head said I'd get use to that too, but I didn't want to, not right now.

Going back into our room, I went through some of my mother's books and got out an old favorite. With a smile I went back into the living room, plopped onto the sofa and started reading. I didn't stop until I fell asleep.


	3. Dead Wrong

**Two updates in a day, aren't you happy with me? ;o)**

**I was hoping this would be a little less filler than that we'd get a showing of a certain Bat-tastic person, but such didn't happen.  
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**If you've been reading since the beginning you may notice a bit of an inconsistency; yes I DID have to update chapter one, taking out the part about seeing Batman in the news papers; that has not happened yet, seeing that (oh god, chapter three spoilers) Falcone is IN this chapter.  
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**such a huge mistake, I almost died. BUT it's fixed now. no worries. but batman will be showing up soon.  
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**hopefully.  
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**PLEASE LEAVE REVIEWS  
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**oh also I don't oh batman or gotham or anything of that sort  
**

**crusades  
**

Lalun and I reconciled quite quickly when she also came home without the eggs. Still sleeping on the sofa, she shook me awake.

"Monica?" she whispered. I opened my eyes only a bit to find her standing over me. The night had come, the sun had set and there was hardly any light in the apartment at all. "Monica, I'm sorry," she said to me.

Sitting up and running my hands through my curly mop of brown hair, I reached over and hugged my older sister. "It's okay, Lu. We're both... _stressed._" She nodded and we curled up next to each other on the sofa.

"That store..." she began.

I snorted. "I had the same problem... with the milk. There was just so _much. _An older man helped me, but after you left I drank some," I made a disgusted face in the little light there was shining through the window, from the moon.

My sister was silent for a moment. "Where did you drink it from?" she finally said.

I opened my mouth to answer her, and closed it again quickly. _That's where she was going with this..._

Lalun spoken again before I could answer. "Jesus, Monica. There are plastic cups in the capnet, you could have used them."

"How did you know?' I asked, absentmindedly.

She shrugged and laid her head down on my shoulder, her straight, though fairly thick, black hair getting in my face. "I went to get some and noticed that the milk was open but the cups were not."

"Good work, Sherlock," I said, referencing the book I had been reading that now sat next to us on the sofa.

"What time do you have to go to work tomorrow?" she asked.

I glanced at the block on the microwave before answering her. 11:08. "Three in the afternoon."

"Tell me about your boss," she ran her hand through her hair.

"His name is... Miles," I said, testing the name in my mouth. "He's... alright, I guess, but he tried to flirt with me. It was not endearing."

Lalun rubbed her eyes. "He's sounds like an interesting character,"

Laughing, I nodded. "Yes, he is...," I yawned, realizing that though I had a nap, I was still very sleepy. "I think we should get to bed, Lu."

"I agree," she said, standing up and heading into our bedroom.

I ran behind her.

-0-

I went into the club by the backway. Before, when I came for the interview, there had been hardly anyone there. At three, there were more people and even a guard outside of the bar. I was a bit startled by this when he glared at me as I tried to enter the bar, but did not stop me. Filled with relief, I went inside as quickly as possible .

Scanning the bar, Miles was nowhere to be found. A few different men sat drinking at the bar and a few more in the in the booths and the tables. I pull the scarf from around my neck and sit at an empty chair at the bar.

"Can I get you something, sweetie?" the bartender asks, looking me over.

I shake my head. "I'm fine, thank you. I'm looking for Miles."

The bartender set down the glass he was holding and looked hard at me for a moment. Then, he turned and yelled to the back. "Miles! Your singers here!"

The bartender nodded at me. "He'll be out in a minute."

I smiled and thanked him; sitting there was somewhat awkward. I surveyed the bar. All the men were still there, and I noticed that the only other women around was a model-thin, hardly-wearing-any-clothes chick who was whispering sweet nothings into the ear of one of the men in a booth.

"Monica," I heard my name called and turned back towards the bar, to see Miles staring at me, a large grin spreading across his face. "How are you?"

I shrugged and made a face. "Not horrible, how about yourself?"

"Great, now that you're here." _Oh lord. _"Let's get started. I have a lyrics print out for you in the back-take a second to look them over and then we can practice a few times and do a soundcheck, already?"

Following him to the back, I found a small space behind the stage, which was a dressing room and sound equipment. He picked a piece of paper off a desk and handed it to me. "Are you familiar with this?"

I skimmed the title and the lyrics and shook my head. "No, I'm not. Give me a second to get them in my head, alright?" He nodded.

"I'll be back up front if you need me," he said, leaving me alone in hardly lit back room behind the stage. I sat in front of a mirror-which I assumed was now my own space-and looked at myself. I hadn't seen my reflection in a while-it was an interesting thing to do. My curly hair was all over my head; my dark eyes, which I got from my father, were wide.

Some may even say that I was pretty.

Picking up the lyrics again, I read them over once, then once again. They were simple enough-it was a smooth song, I knew before even hearing the music. Opening my mouth to sing, the sound of the first verse rang throughout the space from my own lips. As I began the second verse, I saw Miles head popping back from the bar. "That was wonderful!" he said. "Keep going."

Suddenly, I remembered something quite I went on my interview, I had never even sung for Miles. He had never heard my voice at all.

"Miles..." I began. "Why did you hire me?"

He seemed taken aback by the question. "You said you were a singer."

"You'd never heard my voice."

"I trusted you," he shrugged.

I shook my head. "No you didn't."

We sat silently for a moment, staring at each other. "You said you were a singer. I liked you. I hired you. If you turned out to be a shit singer, then I'd find another job for you."

I snorted. "You just wanted to keep me around."

"Yes," he admitted. "I told you I liked you."

Considering this, I looked down at the lyrics. "I need to finish, Miles."

Miles sighed and nodded, leaving without another word. I closed my eyes and tried to remember the first verse again.

_Big eyes_

_But darling I don't cry_

_Oh my_

_I'm falling_

_Gone around you_

_And tried to understand_

_I'm open but inside_

_I'm turning out rivers_

_To hide you_

I took a breath. It was such a beautiful song; suddenly I was dying to hear the actual music that went along with it. Taking the lyrics along with me, I went out to find Miles near the bar. He was speaking with another man, an older man, in hushed voices. They stopped when he saw me.

"Something wrong?" he asked.

I shook my head. "No, I just wanted to see if I could sing to the music."

"Right," he nodded. "Our two guys just left out for a moment, they'll be back," he turned back to the man. "Mr. Falcone, this is Monica; she is our new singer."

My eyes went over to the man. He was heavier, though not fat, with lighter hair and a wicked glare. "It's good to meet you, sir," I said.

"The pleasure is mine," he said, as two men, a blond and a redhead walked in from the back door.

"I was just calling you," Miles said to the blond. He turned to me. "Monica, this is Carter, your keyboardist; and that's Dee, on sound," he said pointing to the dark haired man.

"Hey guys," I said. "Do you want to try out this new song?"

"Right on," Dee said, and I followed them to the back, forgetting about Miles and Mr. Falcone.

-0-

In the back near my vanity there was a closet full of dresses that the former singer had left behind and according to Miles, they were mine now. Dresses had never exactly been my forte, but I picked something sleek and strapless and blue. Miles said I looked stunning. I instantly regretted the choice.

As I came onto the stage, the spotlight was on, and the bar at filled up. In the back I could see Lalun, who I had invited to the first night. She was sitting at a table by herself, surrounded by men smoking cigars. I knew she was uncomfortable.

Behind me, Carter places his hands on the keyboard and sweet melodies began to pour from within. I took a breath and opened my mouth. Getting through the first verse was smooth, like water.

_She said_

_Your mystery would get to me_

_Well I am no closer than before_

_As if you could rescue_

_Me from this _

The second verse began to flow out the same, and suddenly I couldn't help myself from moving with the music. I raised my hands and closed my eyes; I didn't feel nervous anymore.

_Go your way_

_And I will think_

_About...a hiding...place_

_The blame on imaginative stories_

_Pull ahead_

_Behind you lies tomorrows_

_Never realized_

_I live inside my head_

_As if you could rescue me_

_Me from this_

The next time I opened my eyes, the song was finished and people began to clap. Looking for my sisters face in the crowd, she was also clapping and smiling wide.

Miles came onto the stage and took the mic away from me. "That's Monica, everybody, isn't she wonderful?"

The crowd clapped some more. There was more of a mix of people tonight, but it was still mainly middle aged men and young pretty women. I smiled again and stepped off from the stage; people would stop and say I did well, I would thank them, and then keep on my way.

"How did I do?" I asked, sitting down next to Lalun, who sipped on a glass of water.

"Fabulous," she said. "Now when do you get paid?" she laughed.

Before I could answer there was a hand on my shoulder and I turned to see Mr. Falcone standing over me. "Very well, Monica."

"Thank you, sir."

"I'll being seeing you up there again, then?"

"It's my job," I replied.

He glanced over my sister and I and then nodded. "Goodnight, then."

Once he was gone, my sister gave me a strange look. "Did you know him?"

I shrugged. "Met him early. He's a friend of Miles or something."

She pressed her lips together. "Well, when he came over, did you notice that everyone go hushed and looked over here?"

"No," I said. "Stop being so damn paranoid, Jesus, Lu."

"Seriously," she said, standing up. "That was fucking _strange._"

I finished her glass of water. "I have to get my stuff from the back, alright? I'll meet you outside."

"Roger that," she said, walking away from me. I thought about what she said. I was sure my sister was only being paranoid.


	4. When I Am Queen

**Yo ;o)**

**So this is chapter four. Nothing much to say about this besides the fact that both Alfred AND Brucey-baby are in this chapter. That's excited and I'd like reviews. ;D**

**I do not own Batman or Alfred or Bruce or Gotham, though trust that I'd like too. :o)**

**crusades **

As to the fact that the next morning was Friday, the show would be much longer. Miles sent me home the night before with lyrics to the songs that I'd be singing so that I could look over them and be ready for soundcheck pretty quickly when I got to the bar.

Lalun was already out of bed when I woke up and I stumbled out of bed and into the kitchen to find her all dressed and ready to take on the world. "Where are you off to?" I asked her, yawning.

"I'm headed to the university to speak with my counselor; school begins next week."

I groaned. "You're actually going through with that damn school shit? Lu, you don't-" she put her hand up, cutting me off.

"Don't be an ass; this is what I want to do, alright? I'm going to get a degree."

"With what money?" I asked, my voice raised. _She _had been the one to bring the fact that we had no money to go to school up when we first came here, and now she was going through it all away on some helpless dream.

"That's what I'm going to talk about, shithead," she fired back. "We should have gotten this done a long time ago, and now I have to, so please, let me be." Lalun put her coat on and headed for the door.

I wanted to say something else, but she was already gone. Sighing, I went to the kitchen and got myself a cup of cold milk. It was seven in the morning and though I probably should have been looking over those songs, it seemed so mundane.

Getting dress quickly, I decided it was time to take a bit of a walk around the city. I no longer got a feeling of pressure and awe in my chest now when I stepped outside and saw building after building towering over me.

Dressed in a black hoodies I just...walked. I was headed nowhere, there was nothing to it. I just felt the need to walk.

Outside of our apartment was the bridge-hundreds of people crossed the massive structure every day, to my sisters hatred. Lalun disliked the noise that went along with it, but I found it nothing if not symbolic; of our new life, of what the city would bring to us. The noise was beautiful.

There was cloud cover, but I was not worried about the threat of rain now that I had a hoodie on. About a block from our house was a small used bookstore; I stopped at the window and gazed inside. Memories of my late mother flooded by brain-what she would have done to go to a store like this. A smile crawled across my face at the thought of the fact that she would have been so happy there-inside the store. We weren't able to get more books very often for her, but when I did her face would light up and she'd be that person that we knew before her accident.

As I turned away from the store, a black car sat next to the curb with the window rolled down.

"Monica?" I heard a familiar British voice call.

"Yes?" I answered, taking a step towards the car.

"Did you enjoy the milk?" the voice coming from the car asked as I remembered only our encounter in the market.

"It took some getting use to," I admitted.

"I'm sure," he chuckled. "Why are you out in the rain? Do you need a ride back to your home?"

Shaking my head, I answered, "No, thank you Alfred. I'm just talking a walk around the city, to get to know everything." I bit my lip and shifted to the other foot. "Alfred, when we were in the store, you asked about my accent, but where does yours come from?"

He smiled; I had somewhat expected him to be taken aback by my forwardness, but it was something that had bothered me to know end after I had considered it. People in this city seemed to what lots of information from another, but would be willing to give nothing to balance that out. Where I was from, everyone knew everything about everyone else.

"Well, my dear," he said in a both comical and somewhat serious voice. "You're not exactly privy to that information are you?"

This made me smile. "You're right, Alfred, for all you know I could be a spy."

Hooting with laughed, he nodded his head and started the little black car. "Well, missy, are you sure that you don't want a ride back to your home?"

"I'm only a few blocks away and I don't want you to go out of your own way for me," I said, after thinking for a moment.

"I'd not be going out of my way," he answered. "I'm headed back to Wayne Manor and I'd like not to be responsible if you get yourself hurt."

This was a statement that I didn't exactly understand. "What do you mean?"

Shaking his head, "A woman walking alone around the city could get mugged, if not worse. I'd like not to have that on my conscience."

"Oh," I replied, nodding in understanding. I looked at the car and back the other way towards my apartment. It was only two blocks, but what he said had opened my eyes to this-back home, obviously, there was crime-but something about coming here made me believe that wouldn't happen here, in such a grand place. Now, when I looked at the people passing me by, all I saw were criminals.

-0-

"Where did you say you were going?" I asked him, after entering the car.

"Wayne Manor," he replied.

"I don't understand," I said, tracing my fingers over the windows glass.

"As you may consider it, it's my job. I work for the Wayne family," he began. "Master Bruce is the only one left, and I do things for him, take care of matters." We stopped at a red light.

"Pick up milk?" I asked.

He smiled. "Yes, I do that too."

Processing this, I stayed silent.

Alfred spoke again. "Have you found work in the city?"

"Yes," I acknowledged. "I'm a singer."

"Oh, really?" he seemed surprised by this. We were coming up to where the bridge was.

"Take a left, here," I told him. "Yes, I'm a singer, over at a bar... it's the one on 5th."

Alfred didn't answer me and I assumed he was trying to concentrate on driving. By this time, the rain had began to come down in a steady rhythm and though I was saddened by the fact that I did not get to go on a long walk around the city, I was glad to be out of the rain. Stopping in front of our apartment, I thanked him. Before I could get out he spoke again.

"Be careful, Monica," he said.

"Of what?'

He sighed. "Be careful of everything. There are... people, around. They take advantage of young ladies like you. Especially because you're not from Gotham..." he trailed off.

"Alright, Alfred," I said wryly, a bit confused. "Have a good night."

"The same to you," he said, starting the car and driving slowly away.

-0-

Alfred arrived home less than fifteen minutes later, with what Bruce had asked him to retrieve.

"Thank you, Alfred," Bruce said, when he came into the kitchen to find his butler and father figure home.

"Of course, Master Bruce," he said. Alfred went over to the sink to wash his hands, and then stopped. He was well aware of what Bruce was doing in the caves of the land and with Mr. Fox, seeing that he was helping him. He was even making the orders of shipments of equipment for him. "Master Bruce," he said slowly. "I met a woman a few days ago in the market and she had an unfamiliar accent. I found that she had only been in the city three weeks... I saw her again today and after the rain began, I asked her if she'd like a ride home. I reveled to me that she was a singer, and had only just gotten a job. She's working at the bar on 5th."

They both were silent. Bruce's eyes flickered from Alfred to the ground to his own hands. Alfred could see the wheels in his head turning. "I haven't been there in years," Bruce said.

"I don't believe that she is aware of what she may have gotten herself into," Alfred added.

"She's not expected to," Bruce replied. "I'll look into it, Alfred. Thank you."

Alfred nodded, a bit of relief for the oblivious girl coming over him. "Yes, Master Bruce. Thank you."


	5. Of Longing and Otherness

**Sorry for the wait. This is a fairly short chapter, but that's for a reason...**

**BRUCE AND ALFRED AGAIN. ;o)**

**If you ever have any ideas, please tell me! I'm always open. **

**I don't own Batman's epicness, sadly for me.**

**crusades**

The weekend went by in a bitter flash: my sister began some of her studies, getting ready for the first day of the University. We did far more shows and songs on the weekend until we were doing more than six in a show; Miles was becoming even more forward, which got under my skin in an quick wave, but I tried to ignore it.

Bright and early Monday morning, I woke to being violently shaken out of my sleepy trance. "Monica, walk me to school," I heard my sister commanding rather than asking as I lifted from the haze. When she saw that I was dosing back off into my sleep, she bent down to our blow up bed and sternly grabbed my jaw with a hard hand. I was ripped from any sleep that I may have gotten after she left. "Get off the damn bed and walk me to school you lazy leech," she said in an authoritative tone.

I knew better than to feel threatened by her when she spoke like this, but not wanting to cause a division this early in the morning I sat up and walked over to the pile of close that sat next to Lalun's neat pile of, which was far less, and slipped on a black sweater and sweat pants, hoping that the city in the morning wouldn't be too crisp.

The clouds still covered over the sky in a gray blanket. The cold, as I had hoped wouldn't happen, creeped through my sweater as we walked down the sidewalk.

About two blocks from our apartment and there was a news stand. All of the newspapers for the Gotham Times were the same, though. All spoke of a mysterious masked man, who looked like a bat, terrorized the underworld and ended up helping put away one of the city's most notorious crime bosses.

"He sounds like a nut," Lalun said, reading over my shoulder.

"He sounds like a hero," I replied, putting the newspaper back so we could keep on walking.

"This is my stop," Lalun said, as we arrived at a large, almost gothic in a sense, building. It had more than once building on the campus and students were standing and talking on the grass and others were filing into the different buildings.

I put my hands into the pockets of my sweatpants. "Have a good day, alright?" I told her.

She nodded. "I'd come to your show tonight, but I'll be studying and homework and-"

"Don't even worry about it," I told her. "I get it."

Lalun clucked her books again her chest. "First day of college," she said to herself more than to me. "Welcome to America."

-0-

When he opened the door to see Bruce still in bed, Alfred had a strange feeling about some of the things that were to come within the next few weeks. The first night had paid off, he thought, but what if the next does not?  
Striding over to opening the long curtain, a dusty light filled the room.  
"Bats are nocturnal," he heard a groggy Bruce Wayne complain, covering his face.  
Alfred smirked. "Bats may be, but even for billionaire playboys, 3 o'clock is pushing it." Bruce rubbed his eyes. On the nightstand next to the bed Alfred left a tray with a green, thick drink that Bruce had had requested, a banana and some other fruit. "The price for leading a double life, I fear," he said, reaching over to grab the morning's newspaper. "Your theatrics made an impression."  
Upon hearing this, Bruce quickly sat up in bed to examine in cover story. "Theatricality, deception, and power weapons... Alfred this is a good start."  
Alfred, not for the first time in that morning, notices the bruises coming up along Bruce's forearm and shoulder, not to mention his face. "If those are to be the first of many injuries to come, it would be wise to find a suitable excuse. Polo, for instance."  
Bruce made a somewhat disgusted face. "I'm not learning polo, Alfred."  
"Strange injuries, a non existent social life," he began to list some of Bruce's current faults. "These things beg the question as to 'what exactly does Bruce Wayne do with his time and his money'"  
Sucking down the green drink, Bruce considered this. "What does someone like me do?"  
"Well, drive sports cars, date movie stars," Alfred said, watching Bruce fall to the floor and begin doing push ups. "Buy things that are not for sale." He smiled a little to himself. "Who knows, Master Wayne? If you start pretending to have fun, you might even have a little by accident."  
By this time Bruce was breathing heavily with every _up, down. _"Sure," he said, standing up straight and cracking his back.  
Bruce stopped and thought for a moment. "Alfred," he said. "I've been thinking about what you told me a few days ago. I, uh, well I went by the apartment on Saturday."  
Thinking about this, Alfred nodded.  
"I couldn't tell too much from the place itself, besides the fact they're obviously not in the best part of town," Bruce paused. "Her and her sister... they're here under a student visa, though I'm not sure if they're actually starting school. And..." he trailed off. "We may have encountered each other, before."  
"How's that?" Alfred asked.  
"The sisters are from a village that I am... familiar with."  
"Do you think they're aware?"  
Bruce shook his head thoughtfully. "No."


	6. Note

**Note to readers. **

**Sorry about the delay in updates to this. I have not at all forgotten about this story, I'm still picking up the pieces at where exactly I want to go with it.**

**That being said, I am planning on rewriting the story totally. **

**How exciting. **

**Stay tuned for more updates.**

**crusades**


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